“You like the way I look?” Lam asked. “Not like your wife, huh?”
It was a guess, but Brent’s eyes widened in terror. “How do you–?”
Lam laughed. “Because you’re all the same. Not getting what you want at home. Or maybe she’s the taskmaster, and your fragile little ego has taken one too many kicks? You need to take it out on someone else. Someone… weaker.”
Lam pushed up with his knees and then fell back down, starting to ride Brent’s cock. He’d used enough lube in the bar bathroom to prep himself that the movement was slick, easy. Lam’s hips moved to keep knocking Brent’s cock right up against his spot.
Physically, it would be enough to get him there, but mentally this interaction was lacking.
Then again, most men who followed him ended up being the same.Disappointing. Predictable. Boring.
That was Lam’s own fault. He wanted something he couldn’t have. He wanted to fight, wanted to feel blood on his hands, a viciousness in his teeth. He wanted the unexpected, wanted the thrill of not being sure he could win.
But he couldn’t have it. He couldn’t risk one of these men killing him, or worse–realizing what he was and getting away. That was a one-way ticket to a cell, and Lam was not going to live in a cell.
He let out an annoyed breath as Brent laid there useless. Brent was a big boy, had big hands that made Lam ache with desire. If he could be trusted, Lam would’ve loved to feel them around his own throat or thighs. Bending him over, splitting him open with hungry force. Fucking him until he couldn’t move or breathe.
He yearned for that kind of violence. Someone who would meet him and revel in it with him. See him for who he was and give it back twice as good.
If that existed though, he had no way of finding it.
“At least your cock is decent,” Lam snarled as he moved faster. He was trying to convince himself this was more than what was.
Brent just wasn’t… enough.
He bent over the man again, watchful of another attack even though Brent seemed beyond it. His face was pinched, distracted by how Lam was riding him. His breath was coming in gulps, and his hips were starting to move in response.
He still looked afraid, but was trying to go along with it now.
“I expected more from the rest of you though,” Lam said, just to prod at him.
His free hand slid up to one of the wounds still bleeding and he dug his fingers in. It wasn’t playing fair, because Brent was being perfectly obedient, but maybe that pissed Lam off too.
Brent shouted, but didn’t try to unseat him. “S-stop,” he groaned.
“What’s the matter, handsome?” Lam said, licking his lips at the feeling of fresh blood from the agitated wound. “You wanted to fuck me, come in me. I’m giving you what you want.”
Lam brought his hand to his mouth and tasted pennies. Sharp pleasure ricocheting up through him, and it drove him into a faster rhythm.
His hips were moving punishingly now, driving Brent relentlessly inside him. His own cock was bobbing freely in the air, dripping and needy. He didn’t have the hand to spare for it. He was climbing the crest, slipping his fingers deeper into his own mouth, painting the blood across his tongue.
“Fuck me,” Lam demanded as his fingers popped out of his mouth. Brent’s eyes fluttered open. He searched Lam’s face, and then his gaze slid lower to where they were joined.
“Ah?” He said stupidly.
“Come on,” Lam sneered.
Brent’s chest was heaving, his arms itching to move even as he kept them still.
“Don’t move those arms sweetheart,” Lam warned. He was getting close to the point of distraction now. “Wouldn’t want to pick up any more injuries. What would your wife think?”
Brent made a lost noise. “P-please don’t–she doesn’t know–”
“Of course she doesn’t,” Lam cut in. “Why would she know about your fantasy to go out and rape men?”
“I didn’t–I wasn’t–”
Lam scoffed. “We both know what you were going to do to me under this bridge.” He grinned, circling his hips. “But this isn’t as good as you thought it was going to be, is it?”
